


Known Variables

by Sheeana



Category: Mass Effect
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-04
Updated: 2013-01-04
Packaged: 2017-11-23 14:42:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,056
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/623305
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sheeana/pseuds/Sheeana
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After a mission, Shepard and Mordin discuss alien technology.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Known Variables

**Author's Note:**

> For [wumbological](http://wumbological.dreamwidth.org/) for fandom_stocking.
> 
> This takes place sometime immediately after the end of Mass Effect 2 (and presupposes the survival of the entire team), before Shepard gives the Normandy back to the Alliance. It's mostly gen, but I figure that if Mordin was Shepard's love interest, they'd spend most of their time talking.

"Hmmmm."

"Hm?" Shepard glanced up from the screen she was reading in the lab. Something about iridium deposits, but she was too tired to think about where Miranda wanted them to go next right now.

"Problematic," Mordin said. He seemed to be in deep contemplation of the artifact that was now safely encased in plastic in the center of the lab. His fingers fiddled with keys and knobs and buttons on the side of the case, but Shepard had no idea what any of them actually did. She could only conclude that none of them did anything _noticeable_. Apparently, Mordin hadn't reached the same conclusion, because he continued his fiddling and his muttering.

"Mordin-" she started to say, to ask, but he'd never been good at listening to her. Maybe it was for the best. She wasn't exactly the most brilliant scientific mind of her generation.

"Technological capabilities exceed parameters of currently known civilizations. Prothean? No, aesthetics are wrong, not based on mass effect technology. Pre-Prothean? Likely. Origin unknown."

"Mordin."

"Effects of exposure could be catastrophic. Could be harmless. Will need to run simulations. Extrapolate from known variables. Create more data."

" _Mordin._ "

"Not now. Busy. Can talk later."

"Mordin, I'm trying to tell you, nothing happened. We didn't even touch it. Legion picked it up and brought it back, and it seems fine. Not that I know what's fine and what's not for a geth, but it doesn't seem to be malfunctioning or anything. Uh, I think."

"Need to run tests to be sure. Geth hardware unlike human, turian, or quarian biology. Might have varying effects." He didn't sound concerned. In fact, he sounded almost delighted. 

"... You're having fun, huh?" Shepard said, shaking her head.

"Running tests - no. This is work." There was a glint in his eye, though - at least, Shepard thought there was. She didn't know too many salarians, so she couldn't say for sure, but he often seemed to have a particularly sharp sense of humor. The kind of humor she appreciated. (Not like asari humor - she'd never understand that. And if she never had to listen to another hanar joke again, it would be far, far too soon.)

"Maybe you should take a break," she said, glancing out the window at the planet they were still orbiting. Not there. She would pay a million credits to anyone in the galaxy to avoid going back down there. There was nothing wrong with swamps on principle alone, but when her armor was filled with dirty water and the stench of rotting alien plants clung to it even after she'd scrubbed it clean, she'd rather pick somewhere else to vacation. "Come to the Citadel with me next time. Relax for a bit?"

"So many species, so many types of varying biology, so many technologies, so much to study." He paused, just for a second. "... So little time. Happy where I am. Happy to discuss my work with you."

"Why?" She'd never actually asked him before, even after all this time spent chasing Collectors and Reapers together: why her? She'd asked him once why he'd followed her into the Collector Base, but never why he seemed to genuinely enjoy talking to her. They had to be one of the strangest pairs in the galaxy, and that was saying a lot - just the other day, she'd seen an asari walking hand-in-tentacle with a hanar through a port city on a turian colony.

"Why?" he repeated, distracted by the readings on the screen attached to the artifact's case.

"I'm not... exactly a scientist," she said, raising her eyebrows. Whatever she had with Mordin (friendship at the very least, she thought it was safe to say, but it was hard to tell with some species), it wasn't easily explained by a shared appreciation for mutual culture or anything like that. 

It was easy enough to understand why she liked having Mordin around. He would just as soon tell her about the biomechanics of asari reproductive cycles as he would burn or freeze their enemies to death, and well. Shepard liked someone who got things done. It was one of the reasons she always brought Garrus to the tightest spots. It was easier to trust that kind of person. 

Three missions ago, they'd been pinned down by Blue Suns, and Shepard had somehow gotten a bullet through her leg. Nothing Chakwas couldn't fix, but when they were stranded in an abandoned warehouse on a planet that wasn't even listed on galactic charts, that was a different story. Modern medical technology didn't mean much in a place like that.

Nowhere to run, no medi-gel, overheated weapons, nothing to do but wait for an evac, and Shepard had never feared for a second that they wouldn't get out. She'd had a lot of teams, in a lot of places, but if she had to walk into hell again, she'd want this one at her back. She'd want Garrus's steady hand and determination, Mordin's intellect and unflinching calm. When the Reapers came, she wouldn't settle for anything less.

Maybe that was why she always seemed to gravitate to the quiet atmosphere of Mordin's lab, before and after missions. If she had to spend her precious few moments of free time with anyone on the Normandy, she'd prefer to do it with someone who would keep doing his job right up until the moment the ship exploded. 

But that only explained her half of the equation. Mordin's reason for trusting her was something else.

"So... why me?" she asked again, because he seemed to have forgotten about her question. Or maybe he was just considering it very carefully before he answered. He always liked to be precise, whatever the circumstances.

"Curiosity, desire to learn, desire to grow - admirable qualities. Valued by salarians," he replied. He stopped his work and looked up to watch her for half a second, as if seeking something. Then he returned to tinkering with the settings on the case holding the artifact. 

She knew him well enough by now; he was done talking. It was time for her to go sleep off her swamp experience in her quarters. She could figure out iridium deposits later.

 _Curiosity._ She still didn't know exactly what made Mordin tick, but she'd be damned if that wasn't one of the best compliments she'd ever received.


End file.
